Seashell Sky

"The sky was not blue."

"What color was it?"

"It was the color of the inside of a seashell, pearly and iridescent. And the sunlight was not yellow."

"What color was it?"

"The sunlight, my child, was like the flesh near the pit of a peach. And the rain, the rain, my child, was not blue."

"What color was the rain?"

"The rain was like diamonds…diamonds that clung to the leaves on trees, and played tapping symphonies on your shingles. Diamonds that fed the rivers and doused the crops and sustained the ground-dwellers."

"The ground-dwellers? Are they different?"

"Yes. Yes and no. The ground-dwellers—"

The voice stopped abruptly. All Natalie heard was the steady in and out of her breath and the sound of rain on the window and walls. She sat up and pushed her hair out of her face, un-obscuring her view of the darkened room in which she slept. She glanced at the display of her alarm clock, 4:24 AM. She sighed and swung her legs out of her bed. As she stood, it became clear to her that it was still there, just as it had been. A…wrongness. A weight upon her shoulders. A feeling that she was not where she was meant to be.

Natalie was sixteen years old and she had lived in a small rural town in New England until two weeks ago. From what she had been told, she gathered that she had always been an odd child. She had been the little girl in school who read a book during recess while the other children played 'tag' and 'hide-and-seek'. Natalie's father was a first chair Violinist and her mother was a skilled painter. Natalie remembered that once in the second grade she had drawn a picture, with pink and peach Crayola crayons, inspired by a reproduction of an Auguste Renoir painting that hung in the bathroom at home. It depicted a blonde woman bathing and she had not understood why her teacher, Mrs. Gordon had been upset. Ever since she had taken a terrible hit on the head in the accident that killed her parents, she had very few memories as clear as this one. Why memories as seemingly insignificant as this were the only ones that survived was unclear to Natalie, and she feared there were no reasons.

Natalie lived now with her mother's brother, Uncle Felix, in Boston. Felix was a nice man and he had a nice apartment and Natalie liked Boston enough, but she knew that she was not particularly wanted and she did not feel like she ought to be here.

Natalie walked to the window. There was a sheet of water on the opposite side of the glass. "Diamonds…" she whispered, as if it was an incantation. As if it would fix things. She put her face against the cool surface before going back to bed.

She remembered sitting in the woods with her mother on a hike and her mother saying, "Daddy and I will always be with you, Nat."

"People aren't indestructible. What if you died?"

"No, people aren't indestructible, but in the same right, people are much stronger than we usually assume."She sighed and smiled her pretty smile, and with her eyes closed she said, "I know there's strength in people and good and magic. People could fly if they just closed their eyes and jumped."

Natalie hadn't argued, she knew her mother was an optimist and a romantic. She also knew that she couldn't fly.

Since the accident, Natalie had been having dreams. Installations of a story that she thought her mother had told when she was a small child. Tonight she had heard more than ever before. She longed badly to know what a ground-dweller was and so she let sleep take her.

"The sky was not blue."

"What color was it?"

"It was the color of the inside of a seashell, pearly and iridescent. And the sunlight was not yellow."

"What color was it?"

"The sunlight, my child, was like the flesh near the pit of a peach. And the rain, the rain, my child, was not blue."

"What color was the rain?"

"The rain was like diamonds…diamonds that clung to the leaves on trees, and played tapping symphonies on your shingles. Diamonds that fed the rivers and doused the crops and sustained the ground-dwellers."

"The ground-dwellers? Are they different?"

"Yes. Yes and no. The ground-dwellers plowed the fields and made homes out of wood and took animals from the wild and made them tame."

"That makes the ground-dwellers the ordinary ones then, they're normal."

"Well, that all depends on how you look at the story. Everyone starts out as a ground-dweller and everyone dies a ground-dweller."

"If everyone that lives and dies is one of them then how can there be anyone else?"

"Everyone that is born, is born a ground-dweller, and all who die, die ground-dwellers. But not everyone lives a ground-dweller."

"Who—"

Natalie awoke again, to find the morning sun staring her in the face. She mentally scolded herself for not shutting the curtains when she awoke during the night. Natalie was not sure why knowing this story was so important to her. It was clearly just going to be some sort of Fairy Tale and it was not her mother's voice telling the story so that was not why she was so keen to hear the rest. This story seemed somehow very crucial. Maybe this story would tell Natalie where she belonged. She rolled over, not caring that she hadn't eaten in three days. She had to know the rest.

"The sky was not blue."

"What color was it?"

"It was the color of the inside of a seashell, pearly and iridescent. And the sunlight was not yellow."

"What color was it?"

"The sunlight, my child, was like the flesh near the pit of a peach. And the rain, the rain, my child, was not blue."

"What color was the rain?"

"The rain was like diamonds…diamonds that clung to the leaves on trees, and played tapping symphonies on your shingles. Diamonds that fed the rivers and doused the crops and sustained the ground-dwellers."

"The ground-dwellers? Are they different?"

"Yes. Yes and no. The ground-dwellers plowed the fields and made homes out of wood and took animals from the wild and made them tame."

"That makes the ground-dwellers the ordinary ones then, they're normal."

"Well, that all depends on how you look at the story. Everyone starts out as a ground-dweller and everyone dies a ground-dweller."

"If everyone that lives and dies is one of them then how can there be anyone else?"

"Everyone that is born, is born a ground-dweller, and all who die, die ground-dwellers. But not everyone lives a ground-dweller."

"Who else was there but the ground-dwellers?"

"The sky-flyers."

"The sky-flyers?"

"Yes. They were the ground-dwellers that did not feel like plowing the fields and cutting down trees and taming the animals. They were the ones that did not feel like they belonged on the ground, they stood idling in the fields and the forests, marveling at the seashell sky, longing to join the sky-flyers of legend. They yearn for more."

"But regular people, ground-dwellers, can't fly."

"If they want to they can."

"I yearn for more. I want to be able to fly…can I?"

Natalie awoke again. She leapt out of her bed, and still wearing her nightgown she pushed open her window and climbed onto the fire escape. She ran up the fire escape until she reached the roof. She looked down at the road and saw the cars on the pavement and the people on the side walks. It was late afternoon now. She turned and looked up at the sky and found that it was a pinkish, seashell hue in the soon-to-be sunset light. Natalie shut her eyes and waited for the story.

"The sky was not blue."

"What color was it?"

"It was the color of the inside of a seashell, pearly and iridescent. And the sunlight was not yellow."

"What color was it?"

"The sunlight, my child, was like the flesh near the pit of a peach. And the rain, the rain, my child, was not blue."

"What color was the rain?"

"The rain was like diamonds…diamonds that clung to the leaves on trees, and played tapping symphonies on your shingles. Diamonds that fed the rivers and doused the crops and sustained the ground-dwellers."

"The ground-dwellers? Are they different?"

"Yes. Yes and no. The ground-dwellers plowed the fields and made homes out of wood and took animals from the wild and made them tame."

"That makes the ground-dwellers the ordinary ones then, they're normal."

"Well, that all depends on how you look at the story. Everyone starts out as a ground-dweller and everyone dies a ground-dweller."

"If everyone that lives and dies is one of them then how can there be anyone else?"

"Everyone that is born, is born a ground-dweller, and all who die, die ground-dwellers. But not everyone lives a ground-dweller."

"Who else was there but the ground-dwellers?"

"The sky-flyers."

"The sky-flyers?"

"Yes. They were the ground-dwellers that did not feel like plowing the fields and cutting down trees and taming the animals. They were the ones that did not feel like they belonged on the ground, they stood idling in the fields and the forests, marveling at the seashell sky, longing to join the sky-flyers of legend. They yearn for more."

"But regular people, ground-dwellers, can't fly."

"If they want to they can."

"I yearn for more. I want to be able to fly…can I?"

"Any person can fly if they just close their eyes and jump."

Natalie came back to herself and stepped to the edge of the roof. She closed her eyes…and jumped. She felt the ground pulling her. She squeezed her yes shut and held her breath, awaiting the crushing force of her body against the earth.

She opened her eyes slowly and found that she was no longer trapped among the ground-dwellers. She felt at last that she was where she belonged.